Capitulate
by Poignant
Summary: She needed to do this one last unspeakable deed so that it would all end. He understood her agony, taking care to make sure she would forget, but she couldn't. Not this, not yet. Written for wouldtheywriteasongforyou's Delirium Competition.


**Capitulate**

_A/N: Written for wouldtheywriteasongforyou's Delirium Challenge — Level: Wild (hard). _

_Prompts: _

_- Quote: "You're not really an adult. You're just a tall child, holding a beer, having a conversation you don't understand." – Dylan Moran_

_- Song: "Young and Beautiful" - Lana Del Rey_

_- Ship: OTP_

_- Words (must be included): 'forgive me', 'impulse', 'camouflage', 'but of course', 'vine', 'ember'_

_- Word count: exactly 1386_

* * *

"**You're** nothing but a child," she said, sneering. His words had finally sunk in and she wanted nothing more than to flee to the hills; run into the wild and lick her wounds in private. She knew she didn't deserve this, not after everything they had been through, not after everything they had done to get to this place.

"But of course," he began, he face completely blank—a camouflage of his true self. The armour he always wore, excluding the night they spent together by the glowing embers of the fire, laying their hearts on the line. "If I am a child then what does that make you? A stupid, impulsive cow," he spat, his face finally contorting into something other than a blank mask. Pure, unadulterated anger.

"You retched ferret," she said, storming over to him with every intention of slapping him. He stopped her hand, grasping onto her wrist mere millimetres from his cheek. Ginny froze, staring into the depths of his grey eyes and witnessing the fire that burned within. She knew then that she could never truly hurt him. As much as she wanted to, she could not. He understood her and the passion that flowed within her veins. He accepted her and didn't care about her past because she didn't give a damn about his.

She gave into her impulse, pushing him against the growing vines on the outside of the castle. She crushed her lips against his, seeking a way to release the passion and anger boiling within her. He responded with as much force, turning them around so that she was the one pushed against the wall. He pulled her leg around his waist, pressing their bodies together with such vehemence that she could do nothing but give herself over to his control.

They didn't get much further, despite their raging desire. Not a moment later Hermione came around the corner. Her gasp alerted them to her presence and as quickly as their little tirade began, they sprang apart straightening themselves as if nothing had happened. Of course, there was nothing to be done about the raging blush apparent on Ginny's face.

"I, um… we were just—" Ginny tried to begin.

"Talking. We were simply talking," cut in Draco, his blank facade falling expertly into place.

"Ginny, you are needed in the Great Hall," said Hermione, completely unimpressed with what she had just seen. Ginny was engaged to her best friend, after all.

Ginny swallowed, and moved to follow Hermione who had promptly turned around and was stalking her way back to the castle entrance.

"Forgive me," Draco said, once again grasping for her wrist and forcing her to turn around. "I had no right," he continued.

"No you did not," she replied before he could say any more. Leaning in she placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "Wait for me in the cabin." She turned and left, fighting the desire to leave with him. She wanted to live out her numbered days with him and only him, the rest of the world be damned. Didn't she deserve that much?

She dawdled on her way to the castle. By now Hermione would have told Harry what she had seen and it was going to be a nightmare. Despite having searched for a reason to break up with Harry for the better part of the year, she did not want to have the conversation that would inevitable follow.

Making her way into the Great Hall, she saw the cluster of people standing around something near the center of the Hall. Curiosity piqued, she increased her pace, running into the arms of her future husband as part of her dutiful fiancée act.

"They found this with the body," said her fiancée, handing her a piece of parchment. Body? There was no—

Her father. He was lying unnaturally still on a stretcher. Swallowing, she reached out a shaking hand and took hold of the note. She slowly brought it in front of her face, blinking rapidly to clear her blurring vision.

_Give him up. _

Three simple words that held such significance. She stumbled; note falling from her hand as the world came crashing down around her.

Distantly she could hear people calling her name, helping her to sit in one of the nearby seats. They were trying to comfort her, yet consistently asking her the same question.

_"__Do you know what this means?"_

Oh, she knew exactly what it meant, and she had spent the past few days trying to neutralise the threat under the pretence of work commitments. They had thought they had done it.

But someone somewhere had just upped the ante and they had to find them. They had to find them and kill them, because she would not let her family suffer anymore for her mistakes.

She took a few more moments to collect herself and harden her heart. He was trying to get into her head and every moment she spent in anguish, he was winning.

Steeling her gaze and pushing away all of her feelings, she looked up to meet the accusing stare of Hermione. She knew, or at least had a very good idea of what had just happened.

"I need to leave," said Ginny. Everyone whipped around to look at her, most with sympathy. They all knew what it was like to lose those closest to you.

She stood, shaking off Harry's hand of support. After this was all over she would go running back to him just as she always had. In so many ways she was a coward—in no way befitting of the title 'Gryffindor'.

Bursting out the entrance doors she ran. She forced her legs to move as fast as they could carry her. Her friends and family were beginning to pursue her, spurring her body to move faster. Reaching the main entrance, she dissapparated as soon as she was able, mid stride.

She was in the cabin and he was with her. Tears were spilling over her face—a result of all the pain and fear that had plagued her for years. It was enough to damage anyone and propel them into adulthood well before their time.

"Tell me you love me," she said, crossing over to Draco and kissing him with vehemence. She didn't care that she was a wreck, she needed to know. She craved to hear the words from the one that mattered the most. They had suffered through so much and she wanted to know it wasn't all for naught.

"I love you," his words lit up the summer night, filling her aching heart. She pushed him towards the bed, pausing only to remove his shirt, drinking in the newly exposed skin. She ran her hands over his chest vowing to remember the very feeling of his soft skin under the tips of her fingers.

"Tell me you'll still love me no matter what," she said, wanting to be absolutely sure.

"I will always love you." She was grateful he didn't ask any questions. He was so perfect—understanding that she craved his contact, willingly giving it to her. He believed he could just ask her about what had happened later, when they were done. She gave herself over to the purely physical sensations of being with another man. His kisses were like drugs, stopping her every thought and convincing her that they could stay like this forever, drinking in the sensations of one another.

But she needed her thoughts. She needed them to do this one last unspeakable deed so that it would all end. So that no one else would get caught in the crossfire. So that they could all have some peace, except her. She would never receive it.

With tears pouring from her face, she continued kissing him, savouring his taste for one last time. He understood her agony, taking care to make sure she would forget, but she couldn't. Not this, not yet. She took in the feel of his warm body against her own, his intoxicating masculine scent and the sweet taste of his lips. He would never see it coming. He would never see how she slowly brought up her wand, softly pressing it against his abdomen and whispered the words that would give him up.


End file.
